


Balancing Act

by an_aphorism



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Shiro (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Courting Rituals, Cuddling & Snuggling, Grinding, Kissing, Knotting, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Mate Bite, Mutual Pining, Omega Keith (Voltron), Oral Sex, Service Top Shiro (Voltron), Sex, Soft filth, Sparring, emotional and physical edging, reverse omegaverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:28:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24113551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_aphorism/pseuds/an_aphorism
Summary: Maybe it’s wrong and inappropriate for Shiro to spend so much time with Keith, especially when he is already mate-matched, but when Keith beats him in a race and shouts triumphant into the blistering desert wind, Shiro finds it really hard to care.Keith is quickly becoming one of the best things in his life, and Shiro’s sick to death of feeling sorry for all his wrong alpha behaviors.or: reverseOmegaverse in which alpha Shiro is a pining fool.
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Allura/Lance (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 59
Kudos: 1588





	Balancing Act

**Author's Note:**

> further tags or warnings:   
> Reverse omegaverse in which omegas control society, there are alpha prejudices/rules that Shiro struggles with.   
> Keith herein has a cock and a hole, but language is neutral and vague for his bits.  
> The Adam/Shiro follows canon, and only appears in the beginning.

When Shiro gets into the Garrison, he knows it’s because of his size. After his early teen growth spurt he had began to get all kinds of opportunities, and more came as he took to running, lifting, bulking himself up.

Shiro’s smart, but that wasn’t what anyone hired an alpha for, and definitely not a young alpha. The opportunities at first were all physical jobs— moving furniture, landscaping, construction— and they were mind blisteringly dull. He did them. He needed the money and he needed the experience and he needed to get into the Garrison.

He wanted to fly.

Even if he had to annoyingly lean on his musculature and height to get in.

It’s unusual for an alpha to pilot, that’s a skill requiring brains, speed, accuracy. It’s an omegan job, but Shiro can’t help himself. He hopes, and dreams, and plans.

They let him in to the Garrison but put him in physicals. He spends most of the first year on the underbelly of the ships, learning how all the machinery fits together, how the welding and construction of ships all come together. It’s fine enough work, even sort of interesting to know how everything works. Shiro knows he’s young, and that he has to start from the bottom. It’s enough for now. Until he can prove himself.

Then he meets Adam.

At first it’s a whirlwind. Shiro’s never really been around omegas up until the Garrison, alphas tend to do their primary and secondary education sectioned off. It’s for good enough reasons with all the alpha puberty hormones running wild, polite society— omega society— don’t need to see that.

But it does often leave alphas without coping skills for seeing omegas after that.

So Adam really just hooks Shiro stupid for a while. The man is gorgeous and smells amazing and is wicked smart. The main attraction, though, is that he really just… pays attention to Shiro.

And maybe Shiro shouldn’t be quite so much the stereotype to fall all over himself courting the omega, but first crushes are often like that. It’s excited to be wanted, to be valued for his alpha traits instead of frowned at. Before Shiro even knows it, they’re dating.

It’s good, for a while. Adam helps Shiro get into the pilot program, vouching for him as only an omega can. Shiro tries not to let that sour the promotion.

It still does though, but on Adam's end. To keep up Shiro starts talking more classes, more simulator practice. He aces tests and works his ass off to break records and impress omegan teachers. He’s one of the few alphas in the flight program, and so he knows he has to be twice as good for half the credit. He’s representing more than just himself, he’s representing all alphas.

So maybe his relationship sort of starts to take a back seat, but Shiro hopes Adam can understand. This is his _dream_.

By the time Shiro has worked his way up to recruitment, he and Adam are in thin ice.

And that’s when he meets Keith.

On recruitment Shiro encounters a boy with sharp eyes who cracks the high score on his first ever flight, and then when Shiro’s back is turned, steals his car. A _problem case omega_ , the teacher tells Shiro. Shiro grins, pays the boys bail, and gives him an invitation to the Garrison.

He knows better than most how it feels to be a misfit shape in a typecast box.

The friendship that comes after that is… something else. Shiro’s friends are all alphas, and so he’s never gotten to just talk to an omega, hang out with one. Not one that he wasn’t actively pursuing.

Not that Keith is like any other omega. He’s hardly soft or demure or even nice. True he’s nice to Shiro, he’s nice to people he actually respects, but he doesn’t prescribe to the Nice Omega thing.

And Shiro kind of digs that. A lot.

He also loves how Keith never turns down an opportunity to spar or race hover bikes out in the desert. He comes to Shiro’s garage and helps with some of the mechanical work, gets himself sweaty and grease covered. True that Keith's physicality and temper sometimes comes with fights and warnings from the professors, but Keith’s an omega and he has a lot of chances he could burn through before anyone does anything.

Especially with pilot scores like his. Shiro broke a lot of records to get the respect he has now despite being an alpha, but Keith is just…

Otherworldly.

And maybe it’s wrong and inappropriate for Shiro to spend so much time with him, especially when he is already mate-matched, but when Keith beats him in a race and shouts triumphant into the blistering desert wind, Shiro finds it really hard to care. Keith is quickly becoming one of the best things in his life, and Shiro’s sick to death of feeling sorry for all his wrong alpha behaviors.

This attitude though doesn't help Shiro’s relationship. Adam becomes short with him, practically bristly. Shiro needs to be spending more time in their apartment trying to mend, but the worse it gets the more excuses he finds not to be there. Instead he spends that time at Keith’s. Both of them, by silent agreement, never speak of it.

Then Shiro gets the Kerberos Mission.

##

Shiro flies down the hall, his happiness expansive to near bursting inside him. His first thought is to find Adam and hug him and kiss him and tell him the good news.

Shiro’s going to a pilot on a mission! A real mission! As an alpha it’s almost unheard of.

In their apartment Adam is nose deep on his data pad when Shiro bursts in.

“Guess what!” Shiro declares, grinning ear to ear.

Adam looks up and just raises a single eyebrow. Half his attention is still on the screen.

But Shiro’s enthusiasm won't be deterred. He practically runs across the room and hops onto the couch beside Adam. “I got Kerberos!” He moves the data pad away just so he can grab Adam’s shoulders and beam at him. “Kerberos!”

Adam frowns. “What?”

“The Kerberos Mission, they just asked me to be the pilot!”

“But you’re an alpha.” Adam looks more confused now.

Shiro feels some of his own joy dwindle. “Yeah!” He goes on, “But they think I’m still the strongest candidate, isn’t that amazing?!”

Adam does not look amazed, he looks troubled.

“You can’t fly to Kerberos,” Adam says.

The words are like a slap across the face. Shiro rears back, pulling his hands away. “What?”

But Adam isn’t looking at him, he’s looking across the room at nothing and shaking his head. “No, that’s dangerous, and you’re just an alpha, that mission is too dangerous.”

Something cold and awful slides down into Shiro’s belly. “ _Just_ an alpha?”

Adam catches himself, reaching for Shiro’s hands. “Takashi please, I just meant that maybe that’s not a great fit for your first big mission.”

But already Shiro is pulling away, getting up off the couch to put distance between them. “Then what is?”

“I don’t know, something planet side?”

Shiro frowns. “This is my dream.”

Adam sighs. “I know honey, but you _are_ a pilot. They let you go flying all the time don’t they?”

“And what? That’s supposed to be enough?” Shiro snaps.

“It would be for most alphas,” Adam bites back. “You’re not ma— it’s not— it’s just too dangerous.”

“Aren’t alphas supposed to take the riskier work?”

“Oh don’t be obtuse, you know very well that piloting is brain work, omega work. It’s only dangerous for _you_.”

 _For a stupid alpha_ , is what Shiro hears.

He turns and strides to the door as Adam calls for him, but Shiro can’t bear to hear another word. His heart feels crushed then, pummeled down into nothing inside his chest. He knows what he is, he knows how the world is, but he hadn’t thought that Adam of all people—

Adam had helped him get into the piloting classes for fucks sake!

He flees the apartment and the building, body moving automatically as he gasps for air to keep the tears in. This was supposed to be happy, the best day of his life and yet—!

Shiro doesn’t know where he’s going until he’s suddenly in front of Keith’s door and knocking. When Keith answers, he just can’t hold it in anymore. He falls to pieces.

Keith guides him inside and onto the couch, and slowly but surely pulls every sharp piece of shrapnel out of Shiro to get the story.

And then just as carefully, in the dim lighting of his apartment, Keith puts Shiro back together.

##

After that everything changes for Shiro. An omega-alpha break up is rare. Omegas choose their partners carefully, and are supposed to mate for life. While Adam had yet to offer his throat for the mate bite, Shiro had assumed with enough courting that that the direction they were heading. 

It’s a great shame for an alpha to lose a mate-match, even one not consummated by a mate bite. A lost match means there’s something wrong with the alpha.

It means that omegas in the future will steer clear of Shiro. And maybe that’s fair, because Shiro refused to give up his dream for Adam like any good alpha would. It’s an honor to be chosen by an omega, and Shiro hadn’t been treating it as such for a while now.

Shiro tries not to think about it, and moves out of the shared apartment into Keith’s building. He tries to get away from the stares and whispers, tries to ignore the nasty rumors that go around about why Adam dumped him.

He starts training for the mission. It's the only thing he can do.

His training specifically is grueling work. Shiro knows he’s smart enough for it, good enough for it, but the officers drill him twice as hard as the rest of the crew. If he wasn’t so afraid of the opportunity being snatched away he would say something, would call out the bias.

But this is an honor, so he swallows it.

And then when Keith catches him in his rare spots of downtime, the omega carefully unspools that tension. He listens and validates, puts his head in Shiro’s lap and allows Shiro to run his hands through that dark hair while he talks.

Keith doesn’t often lean on omega tricks, but in these occasions he lets it happen. He bares his throat and curls up against Shiro, allows him to lower the walls he has to keep up for everyone else. They both know what Keith’s doing, and maybe that’s even why it works. Keith doesn’t try to fool him, not really. The way he does them are obvious, and Keith watches him the entire time as if to say, _is this okay?_

It is. It so much is. After everything with Adam, after losing a mate-match, it soothes something deep inside him to even be close to another omega. Shiro’s alpha brain settles just from the proximity of Keith, as if knowing that he hasn’t lost _all_ privilege to be near an omega proves he's not entirely worthless.

It’s a little thing, but it means a lot.

Kerberos approaches slowly but steadily. Shiro spends more and more evenings at Keith’s, and he finds in the week before the mission he’s not even thinking about Adam anymore. Even the nasty rumors don't seem to stick under his skin like they once did. He knows it's all because of Keith. Keith is so good to him, and he should be doing more to pay that back.

An idea comes to him just before launch. Shiro puts Keith down as his contact and guest, and whisks him through all the non-restricted areas on a tour. Keith looks at everything, wide-eyed and star struck.

“This is so cool Shiro.”

“Right?” They’re passing through some of the underground hallways now where the last minute supplies are still stacked and ready for loading. “And someday soon it’ll be you.”

“Us,” Keith says, turning to smile at Shiro.

“Us,” Shiro says, and something strange and fluttery moves in his belly.

Keith’s turned back around, leading the way as if he were giving Shiro the tour. It makes Shiro smile to see how much he’s grown. Unconventional omega or not, Shiro’s known since the moment he saw Keith that Keith was meant for greatness.

He’s excited for Kerberos, but also a little excited to come back and see how Keith’s grown. Keith will be a licensed plot by the time Shiro comes back, and they can go soaring the skies together instead of just the desert.

By the time they’ve ended the tour and come back to the surface, the sun has set and left a deep blue twilight in its place. The desert blows a sweet wind around them, and for a moment they just linger.

Tonight Shiro will be spending in a quarantine before the launch, and for all intents and purposes this will be their last real moment together. Everything after this will be through a screen for a while.

Which reminds Shiro. He digs into his pocket and closes his hand around cold metal. “So, uh, I wanted to give you something before I go. It’s not much, um,” he pulls the dog tags out feeling suddenly foolish. It seems then like silly gift, one that doesn’t make much sense even though he’d been sure just hours earlier it was perfect.

He forces himself to open his fist and offer them up.

“They’re giving us different ones for the mission, and uh, if you wanted to take care of these—“

“Yes,” Keith says, taking them at once. There’s an expression on his face then that Shiro doesn't know, his mouth doing a slight frown. “Yeah. Of course I will. Thanks Shiro.”

There’s a beat of awkward silence. “No problem.”

“I’ll miss you,” Keith blurts. He crosses his arms, making the tags clink together. “I know you’re going to be great, and I want you to go, I do. This is your dream. I’ll just… miss you.”

Tension falls out of Shiro’s shoulders. He smiles softly at Keith. “I’ll miss you too. And like you said, next time you’ll be coming with.”

“Two pilots?” Keith uncrosses his arms.

Shiro shrugs, “An alpha is piloting the Kerberos mission, stranger things have happened.”

At that Keith shoves his shoulder playfully. “The best pilot at Garrison is piloting Kerberos you mean.”

The comment makes Shiro feel warm all the way down. He tries to memorize the moment then, Keith bathed in soft blue, clutching the dog tags and looking at Shiro. The mission will be amazing but it will also be long and cold and lonely. He will need memories like this to get him through the downtime.

But then Keith is stepping closer, a hand coming to lay on Shiro’s shoulder. Before Shiro can react Keith is on his tip toes and pressing a delicate kiss to Shiro’s cheek. The smell of something like jasmine tickles Shiro's nose.

“Come back to me,” Keith says. Shiro’s heart leaps, and when Keith pulls back, there’s something promising in his eyes.

It strikes Shiro sure and true like an arrow through the heart.

“Keith,” he says helplessly.

Keith holds him with his eyes a moment longer and then gives a slight nod. “Go,” he says, “be great. Then come back.” His hand is clutched tightly around Shiro’s dog tags and his eyes are glossy. Shiro nods, wordless.

Then Keith turns and sprints away. Shiro watches him until the falling darkness swallows him whole.

When he touches his cheek Shiro swears he can still feel that warm pressure there. His heart is beating hard in his chest.

He closes his eyes and wishes then, in the smallest and most contrary part of himself, that he wasn’t going on this mission.

But he is. He has to. And when he comes back, when he steps off that ship Keith will be there and—

And?

Shiro has a lot to think about.

##

The mission does not go well, and it has absolutely nothing to do with Shiro being an alpha.

In a Galra prison cell though, Shiro has no doubt how the Garrison will spin it.

But then there’s little opportunity to think about Earth. There’s the arena, the Witch, druids.

The Galra.

Zarkon.

Shiro pushes his softest memories all the way down where the horrors of his imprisonment can’t touch them. He focuses on the present, on whatever he has to do to keep himself and his crew alive. That works for a while.

Works maybe a little too well. When he gets broken out, he doesn’t see it coming because he really wasn't looking. It’s a strange blessing to get away with his life then on a ship headed for Earth.

On Earth they find a robot lion, then back into space they find a castle and a princess. Shiro finds himself back in the Galran war he’d been all too happy to escape.

At least this time there’s Keith.

Everything goes at breakneck speed after that. Shiro focuses on the next thing that needs to get done, and doesn't spend any time thinking about the past or the future. He holds his pieces together, and tries to hold the team together.

He wants so badly to fall into Keith, to recapture that restful place they once made together at the Garrison, but Shiro knows he can’t afford to let his guard down. He has to stay focused.

He’s the alpha and at his core he just needs to guard, protect, _and endure_.

Everything else can come later.

##

“You’re coming to my room,” Keith says, hand tightening around Shiro’s wrist. Its four weeks into life on Earth post-war, and although the fighting is over, Shiro’s to-do list has never been longer.

“Keith—!” His data pad is binging even as Keith hauls him away from the desk.

“Nope. You’ve been glued to the bureaucracy for weeks. It’s time to rest.”

“I don’t have time!”

Keith doesn’t listen. He just walks out of the office, dragging Shiro behind him. All further pleas fall on deaf ears, and unless Shiro wants to use actual alpha strength, he’s not going to break Keith’s hold.

Keith puts his free hand on his door scanner when they arrive, and then drags Shiro through. “Allura will wonder why I haven’t responded!”

It’s a last ditch effort that Keith only shakes his head at. “I’ve already messaged Pidge to put a Do Not Disturb on your stuff. You’re off the clock.”

“But—“ And then there isn’t anything more that comes to mind. Shiro doesn’t know what he should be arguing exactly.

Keith shoves him down onto the couch, and then plops down beside him with a smirk. “Yeah, exactly. I’ve waited, given you weeks to stop on your own, but it’s clear you won’t. So.”

He then tilts back and lays his head in Shiro’s lap. When Shiro doesn’t immediately get with the program, Keith raises his eyebrows meaningfully.

It takes Shiro back. They haven’t done this since before the war. Before Kerberos.

He remembers the night beneath the ship when Keith leaned in and kissed his cheek so carefully. He remembers the moment at the clone facility, his sword bearing down on Keith’s throat. In his mind these two opposing forces crashes together like waves at a shore break. Shiro can see everything he almost had, everything he almost lost.

It’s hard to bear the knowledge.

Shiro puts his hands in Keith’s hair.

Keith hums. “Good,” he says.

Stupidly, that alpha thing deep inside Shiro’s chest loosens.

It’s quiet for a while then. Keith’s eyes flutter closed, and Shiro can’t tear his eyes away. He fans careful fingers through Keith’s hair, longer now. Much longer. He’s started pulling it back in the gym, and it makes Shiro wonder then if there’s a Blades braid in his future. The thought of it makes him smile.

“I’ve missed this,” Keith says.

“Me too.”

There’s a hundred things Shiro could say then. He could ask about the dog tags. He could apologize for the myriad of horrors he’s brought upon Keith. He could return those three words that Keith’s stamped into his chest.

But that’s not really his place. An alpha doesn’t ask an omega, they wait to get chosen. And Shiro’s damaged goods, in more ways than one. Maybe that’s why Keith can say he loves Shiro, but hasn’t offered him courting rights. Not that there was time to think about something as small as a mate bond in the middle of a war, but—

Like Keith said, they’ve been home for weeks. 

It hurts unexpectedly. Shiro’s never really put hope into the idea that that’s where they were headed, but a foolish, selfish part of him has always thought about it.

And maybe for a moment after the parting before Kerberos there was an opening, but then Keith had never followed up. If he had wanted that with Shiro once, it was clear the time had passed. Now it was just this.

And it is enough _. It is_. Shiro would die for this man, and being his best friend is one of the highest honors of Shiro’s life. They made it through a war together, and they can make it through Shiro’s selfish heartbreak.

The sigh comes out before he can help it. His hands have stilled in Keith’s hair, and Keith opens his eyes.

“What’s up?”

Shiro shakes his head. If that’s a conversation that needs to be had, he doesn’t want to do it now. “Just… everything.”

“Sounds like a lot.”

Shiro tugs as a lock of hair, and Keith grins and turns in to press his face into Shiro’s belly. It offers more of his scalp to Shiro’s fingers, so he traces the hairline curve behind Keith’s ear and back toward his nape.

“It’s just weird, the distance between here and… before.” Keith doesn’t respond, but Shiro can tell he’s listening so he goes on. “It was so simple then. You’d have me do this when my biggest problems were like… passing physicals and emergency drills. Now they’re galactic wars, PTSD… incorporeality.”

Keith’s head moves, and Shiro can feel him peek up. “Does it still help?”

The question catches Shiro off guard. In his mind he thinks this little thing shouldn’t help, that it should be a poor balm for such larger traumas.

But.

“Yeah,” he says to even his own surprise, “It does Keith.”

“Good,” Keith says, and snuggles back in to his belly. He’s a heavy, warm weight on Shiro’s lap, and when Shiro looks down he looks utterly content.

They pass the rest of the evening like that, Shiro petting the omegas hair and finding himself, in turn, soothed.

##

“Walk me to lunch?” Two days later Keith shows up at his office, making a request that sounds much more like a demand. Shiro normally works through lunch, and he opens his mouth to come up with an excuse when Keith walks right up and turns off the computer screen.

“Keith!”

“Lunch,” Keith says, “I’m hungry.” That tugs at Shiro’s deeper alpha senses to care-take, as does the head tilt that Keith does next.

Shiro just looks at the elegant slope of his neck. “That was dirty.”

Keith shrugs, “Did it work?”

Shiro walks him to lunch.

It becomes a routine of sorts. Keith comes and gets him every day for lunch until Shiro’s better senses kick in and demand that he stop working earlier so he can go meet Keith. No alpha worth his salt should make an omega walk all the way over to him. He knows Keith’s schedule, so it’s easy to then just go there instead. Keith beams at him the first time, as if Shiro had just performed the hover bike cliff dive.

After that he’s never late. He walks Keith to lunch and then to wherever Keith’s next meeting is if it isn’t together.

At the end of two weeks Keith catches him at the doorway before he can leave. “Movie night, Friday?”

Shiro knows he has something on his calendar, but looking at Keith’s face he also knows he’ll cancel it. There’s something good here, the way in which Keith’s been butting into his life, and Shiro doesn’t want to mess it up.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Make me dinner,” Keith says, “I miss your cooking.”

This gets a snort out of Shiro, and he catches Keith’s cheeky look in return before the man is dipping into the meeting. Shiro walks back to his own office, a buoyancy in his step he hasn’t felt in a very long time. He spends the next boring meeting thinking about what he should butcher for dinner on Friday. In the daydream he finds himself entirely too amused by the idea that no matter what kitchen catastrophe befalls Shiro, at least it’ll get him one of those Keith smiles.

##

Shiro tries for a stir fry, but gets distracted by his data pad going off, and the noodles stick and burn. He tries to salvage it after that, but the noodles are too stiff and decidedly smell charbroiled. When Keith shows up Shiro is just throwing in the towel and getting the frozen pizza out of the freezer.

But Keith does laugh looking over the mess of the kitchen.

“An attempt was made,” Keith says, taking up a bar seat to pick at the vegetables still in the wok. He hums pleasantly chewing a bit of broccoli. “Oh, that would have actually been good.”

Shiro really shouldn’t feel proud about an _almost_ edible meal, but something in him does stupidly preen.

“I got backup pizza.”

“Wow, handsome and resourceful,” Keith teases.

It catches Shiro unexpectedly and he turns to fiddle with the pizza so the blaze of his cheeks isn’t noticed. “Hope pizza’s okay.”

“Of course,” Keith says. Shiro can hear him continuing to munch on the vegetables.

The pizza doesn’t take long, and then they take a pile of slices back to the couch for the movie. Keith tries to get him to choose what to watch, but Shiro is plenty happy just to sit back and relax. Eventually Keith settles on something action-y and they consume the entire pizza between them.

Keith takes their plates back to the kitchen and then returns and seats himself right beside Shiro. If there wasn’t so much couch available Shiro would think it’s a hint for him to move. As it is Keith loops an arm through his and sort of snuggles down into his side.

He peeks up when he feels Shiro’s blatant staring. “What?” Keith says innocently, “want to make sure those itchy fingers of yours don’t get a hankering to reach for the data pad.”

Shiro huffs, but it hardly stings when the result is Keith’s head leaning against his shoulder.

They watch the whole movie like that, and Shiro hardly moves. By the time the credits roll he couldn’t even begin to say what the movie was about, too focused on the weight of Keith against him, the sweet smell of jasmine that Keith carries with him.

Keith sits up with a stretch and a yawn as the credits roll. “That was nice,” he says. Then turning to Shiro, “Walk me home?”

He does. The halls are dark and quiet at the later hour. They don’t speak, and Shiro is aware that something is different, something is happening here, but he doesn’t dare think—

At Keith’s door the man turns to Shiro and gives him one of those small, heart-stopping smiles. “We should make this a weekly thing, hm?”

Keith’s hand is on Shiro’s arm, and he looks lovely in the soft evening light. Shiro’s heart is suddenly pounding.

“Y-eah,” he says. He hopes—

But then Keith is pulling away and turning to his door. “Perfect. Same time and place. We’ll get that un-burned dinner one of these tries for sure.”

The laugh that comes out of Shiro is halfhearted. Something painful and disappointed sears through him. He should know better than to get his hopes up. No one wants a ruined alpha. Especially not an omega as special as Keith is.

“Good night,” Keith says.

Shiro holds his expression neutral and bids Keith goodnight. It crumbles just as Keith’s door closes.

##

Friendship is hard to hold on to for Shiro after that. Keith is everywhere, touching and smiling and never going further than that. Shiro tries to maintain objectivity, tries to be rational with his heart but… he just can’t.

His heart wants. His alpha wants.

And Keith is right there, smiling and snuggling up against him. He’s so, so close, and so out of reach.

Then there’s the sparring.

Sparring isn’t done much by omegas, but Keith of course has never followed omega stereotypes. It had been one of the first things they’d bonded over. Keith was as rough and tumble as any alpha, and bested most of his opponents by just being himself. Most alphas were practiced in fighting large and physically strong opponents, they didn’t know what to do with slender and quick Keith who could not only slip out of any grip, but could also out think their fighting strategy.

Shiro had, after almost being taken down in their match, risen to the challenge.

Sparring was different now though. Shiro understood where the boundaries were before Kerberos, he understood his place as a sub-par alpha. Now it seems as though his heart and, more to the point, his cock, has gotten away from him. Instead of focusing on the technique, strategy, and exercise of it, Shiro can’t stop noticing all the other things. Keith’s grown into a slender and stunning kind of omega, all shoulders and legs and tiny, tiny waist. He looks amazing, smells amazing, and it’s all Shiro can do to breathe in that intoxicating jasmine scent and retain more than one brain cell.

Keith’s scent always blooms heavier when they spar, and it steadily pulls apart Shiro’s concentration. By the end sometimes all he can see is the sleek way that Keith moves, the tight, tight fabric of his sinful leggings, and that razor sharp smile.

The sparring is a big issue for Shiro. Alpha athletic wear is… thin to say the least. Most alpha clothing is in fact. Alphas are often omega-picked by their physique and knot-size, so most alpha clothing is designed to… show these things off.

Shiro hasn’t spent much time thinking about the downsides of that, because it's just how it is, but now he feels truly how indiscreet his entire wardrobe is. The first sparring session had Keith sweaty and writhing beneath Shiro, slipping holds only to get right back into a full body grapple. It had been fast-paced and exciting, and the amount of fabric separating their bodies had been almost laughable inappropriate.

Except this wasn’t different from any other time. Neither of them were wearing anything markedly different, it was just that Shiro was now noticing. Couldn’t stop noticing.

So now, even before he’s finished changing, Shiro is more than a little hard in his sweatpants.

It’s not a cute look for alphas to be grinding on any omega without explicit consent, so Shiro takes the moment of closing his gym locker to remind himself to _keep it the fuck together_.

Friendship.

Just friendship.

When he finally walks into the gym though it’s late and they’re alone. The smell of jasmine hits Shiro full force. Keith’s scent by now is in Shiro’s couch and kitchen, and sometimes at night in bed Shiro swears it’s there too. The scent of the omega is mesmerizing and taunting. It makes him ache, it makes him ashamed.

 _Friendship_ , he reminds himself.

Keith grins at him, “I’ve got a surprise for you today.”

Shiro patently does not let his eyes dip lower than Keith’s face. “Oh?”

Keith falls into a defensive stance. “You’ll know when you feel it,” he says.

Shiro starts warm-up stretches, keeping one eye on Keith. The man is giving him some playful vibes already, and in occasions like this sometimes Keith will pounce before Shiro’s even finished his warm-up.

“Is it going to hurt?”

Keith laughs. “Nilf showed me,” he says by way of explanation.

Nilf is a Galra working at the Garrison. He’s big, at least twice Keith’s size, but seems nice enough when Shiro’s come across him. Shiro can’t help frowning at the idea of Nilf showing Keith anything. His mind automatically scans back trying to recall if he’s seen them chatting or sitting next to each other at meetings more than would account for random chance.

Then Keith springs at him and wipes away those thoughts.

Because Shiro’s expecting it, he dodges cleanly. Keith makes a sound of delight.

“Cheat,” Shiro taunts.

“All’s fair in love and war,” Keith says.

After that it’s on. Keith swoops in, lightning fast and hyper-accurate, and Shiro doesn’t have any time for thought or word. His body moves automatically, blocking and dodging and striking. It becomes quickly like a dance they both know the steps to. There’s a to-and-fro to it, Keith retreating as Shiro follows, then they reverse. They land blows that are glancing, lacking any real force.

Keith slides up under his block to press against Shiro’s front, and Shiro only manages to get a hand on his hip before the man is slipping away again.

The touches are there and gone, not enough and too much. The air fills with the scent of jasmine and it makes Shiro a little frazzled. Some of his hits and blocks start coming technically off-form, and he has to lean on his alpha-sense to compensate.

Not that it helps much.

His alpha is practically buzzing under his skin. The omega is incandescent as he circles Shiro, prodding for weak spots, and Shiro loves to see it. As much as this isn’t an omega sport, Keith is clearly in his element. Shiro loves that about him.

Then Keith has dropped low, swiping with a leg to try and trip Shiro up. Shiro’s quick to leap back, but he doesn’t anticipate Keith still moving forward, zipping in and under his defense and reaching with one slightly-clawed hand for the back of Shiro’s knee.

It’s… not anything he’s ever seen. Keith grabs and yanks forward, buckling Shiro’s knee instantly, and causing him to trip forward and right onto Keith’s bent back. It happens too fast then, pinpricks of pain where Keith’s claws dig in as he lets Shiro’s momentum roll over his back, and then with a little extra effort, flipped right over Keith.

Shiro lands, winded, on his back on the mat.

He blinks away spots and then grunts as Keith pounces on him, locking his feet down and pressing Shiro’s wrists to the mat. It’s a little difficult with Shiro’s metal hand, the hand much wider than even Keith’s long fingers can manage, but he uses his forearm to hold tight.

“Do a lot of sparring with Nilf?” It comes out before Shiro can help it, his alpha too close to the surface, and more than a little riled up.

“Only enough to get some tips on how to best you.” Keith’s face is flushed and bright, and the sight of it prickles down Shiro’s spine.

Something in Shiro knows he can’t give in now. His omega is challenging him, has been seeing another alpha, and Shiro can’t let that stand. It’s a warning or a threat and—

He arches up then with a rare feat of surplus strength thanks to that snarling, animal thing in his chest. Keith tries to hold, and would normally be able to were it not for the burst Shiro experiences. The loosened hold allows him to roll them, over and over across the mat as Keith fights with him.

At once Shiro knows he’s going to win. Keith’s already burned his best stuff, and Shiro’s still peaking with this fresh wave of energy. They grunt and grab and roll until Shiro finally twines his fingers with Keith’s and bends their elbows out to stop the roll.

Then Shiro is on top, panting hard with Keith pinned.

“Not a good enough alpha, clearly,” Shiro clips.

Keith barks out a laugh. “Certainly not.”

The tone is admiring, a little wry, and it soothes the spikes in the back of Shiro’s throat.

“Got you down on the mat though.”

Shiro gazes at him. The smell of him is so strong. His eyes drift to Keith’s throat, the lovely flush has extended down, and Shiro wants strongly then to put his mouth to it.

It’s then that he realizes just _how_ strongly. He’s pressed nearly all the way down against Keith and—

And his sweatpants really, _really_ aren’t doing anything for him. He’s aware all at once that he’s hard, and slotted a little obscenely against Keith who is also a little hard.

He swallows and his mouth is full of saliva. He wants to rut and mark this man. He wants to press down past all those Very Important Boundaries and just take his mouth.

“Shiro?”

He can’t.

Keith’s given no indication that it would be okay. By all accounts he’s left Shiro obviously in the Friend Category.

So this is wrong. This is wrong, wrong, WRONG.

 _FUCK_.

At once he scrambles up and off Keith, falling back on his ass. Keith sits up, and Shiro watches as he looks him up and down. It occurs to Shiro too late that with these clothes and his legs splayed open he’s _not hiding any of it_.

He reacts after that even slower. It’s in him that an alpha should present for inspection should an omega want to look. And Keith is looking.

But— this is not that. It’s not.

“Fuck, shit, sorry!” Shiro turns, curling his legs up to hide the very blatant sign of his arousal. He feels embarrassed and angry with himself, and there’s still that stupid animal part of him that wants to know if Keith approves.

Keith clears his throat. “It’s fine.”

A neutral answer that could mean anything. Shiro grimaces.

“I’ll just— go,” Shiro says. It’s his responsibility here to make it right, and the only thing he can come up with is to flee.

Shiro tries not to let it sting that Keith doesn’t call after him. In fact all through the shower and changing Shiro expects… something. Nothing happens. He doesn’t even see Keith when he walks back through the locker room and heads to his apartment.

It gives Shiro a strange anxiety. Is Keith upset? Angry? He can’t imagine Keith being angry and not immediately addressing it with him.

Unless it’s worse than that. Something so bad that even Keith doesn’t want to face it.

Shiro lies in bed that night ruminating about it, obsessing over every little detail. It’s more arousing than it should be, maybe because the smell of jasmine is still in his head. Even after the shower it stuck with him.

The options are to continue to obsess and not sleep or…

He reaches down and palms his cock through the boxers. Already it’s hard, and he presses it against his belly. Shamefully he imagines the afternoon going another way. Keith beneath him, mouth open and pleading for Shiro’s knot. Shiro rubs himself in the way it would be, just grinding against those obscene leggings.

He remembers the way it felt, his cock against Keith’s. Keith had been hard, at least a little.

Maybe he’d even been slick.

Shiro groans and turns over, shuffling to get a pillow between his legs. His own sheets smell, impossibly, of jasmine. It’s in his head, he knows it, but he buries his nose into them and breathes deep.

The fantasy comes back: Keith beneath him, smelling like that, looking like a _fucking dream_. Shiro grinds into the pillow, imagining that it’s Keith, his beautiful omega. It’s the first time so Keith wouldn’t let him have him, it would be just like this. Keith would wrap his legs around Shiro and move with him, whine for the knot even if they both know it won’t happen yet.

He’d be wild, teasing, drawing Shiro down to mouth at his throat and warning him, _not yet, no teeth_.

Shiro fucks against the pillow, clawing into the sheets as the pleasure spikes.

And just as Shiro’s about to come Keith would reach down and squeeze at the bulge where a proper knot would happen if he were actually fucking Keith.

“Can’t wait to come around this,” he’d hiss filthy with promise in Shiro’s ear.

Shiro grunts, rutting hard and then cresting over the ledge. He comes hard, too pent up from the emotions of the day. It’s a lot, an absolute mess, but he rides it out, awash in the pleasure of the fantasy where it’s Keith he’s coming against, Keith who’s promising him this and so much more.

When he comes down though none of that is true. Shiro pants against the ruined sheets, his boxers are sticky and wet.

“Fuck,” he says to no one.

##

The following day Shiro expects it to be weird. He expects… something. All morning he debates whether or not to meet Keith for lunch. He shouldn’t, but then he just thinks of Keith’s disappointment if he doesn’t go and Keith expects him to be there. It’s better to be rejected at face than for an alpha to disappoint an omega. 

Better to take the hit on the chin than disappoint Keith. Shiro has enough courage for that.

But when he shows up Keith only gives him that usual smile and they walk side by side to lunch while chatting about all the normal things.

It’s all normal. Strangely normal.

Shiro doesn’t get it.

All week is like that. Keith tucks close to his side, picks food off Shiro’s plate, and sends him texts about the boring meetings. The only different thing is when they’re nearing Friday and Keith texts him asking if instead of their usual movie night that they join the rest of the paladins for some movie Pidge has been hype about for a while. Shiro doesn’t necessarily think that means anything, and it’s no hardship at all to agree to a group hang out. _Pick me up at 7_ says the follow up text.

So Shiro does. He fusses for entirely too long about the outfit he’s going to wear because all alpha clothing is just _so showy and how has he never really considered this before_ , before settling on some jeans.

He is not, however, late.

Keith comes to the door looking amazing. He’s been wearing more Galra-inspired clothing recently, and it really works for him. Today he has a sort of cropped tee with high-waisted strappy leggings in black and purple. It’s both casual and ridiculously attractive. Keith loops an arm through Shiro’s while he’s still distracted by the sight, and then turns them toward Hunk’s where the movie hangout is occurring.

“It’ll be nice to see everyone,” Keith says. “It’s like we’re all in the same building really but I never see anyone but you anymore.”

“I know that feeling.” Shiro has made a little time for Allura in his schedule recently because she’s as demanding as Keith can be, but otherwise he’s just been… working. He frowns at that thought. Maybe Keith did have something with how he’s been dragging Shiro from work.

“I have no idea what the movie is, I didn’t bother to look it up.”

“Me either. I’m assuming nerdy.”

Keith laughs. “I mean I’d sit through anything for them, but Hunks baked goods sure do sweeten the deal.”

Shiro tries not to focus on where their arms are linked. Keith’s being casual, and so he should too. It doesn’t mean anything.

“I hope he made those orange muffins from Lance’s birthday party.”

“Oh, those are so good!”

They chat about Hunks cooking all the way to his door. When they arrive everyone but Pidge is there.

“She’s run back to boot some subs after Allura mentioned how difficult fast English dialogue can be for her to catch,” Hunk says by way of explanation leading them in.

The living room spread is nice. Hunk’s got just one couch, but on the floor he’s put down blankets and pillows to make it cozy. Allura and Lance are seated on the floor while Coran is on the couch. Hunk retakes a seat and then Keith and Shiro fill up the remaining room on the couch.

“How long she gonna take?” Lance whines, “Everyone’s here I want to start!”

Allura chucks a kernel of popcorn at him. “Hush, she’s doing it for me.”

Lance has enough grace to look chagrined, and then he snatches up the popcorn from the floor and puts it in his mouth.

“Ew!” Allura says.

“What? Oh come on honey haven’t you heard of the three second rule?” Lance leans over to try and kiss Allura, and she yelps and pushes him away playfully.

“Oh, absolutely not!”

Lance makes puppy eyes at her. “Don’t you love me?”

Keith snorts and then leans over Shiro to address Hunk. His hand lands on Shiro’s thigh, and Shiro does his absolute best not to react. “So we’re dying to know, orange muffins?”

Hunk grins. “That Galra nose of yours can’t pick up the scent from the oven?”

Keith turns his head and gives a notable sniff, then frowns. “Ah, no. Other scents in the room are too strong.”

Hunk’s face does something.

“Your house doesn’t smell,” Keith says, catching the look. “More like the popcorn, the people.”

“Hey I showered this morning!” Lance cries from beneath a pillow that Allura is holding to his face to keep him from kissing her.

Shiro blessedly remembers he too showered this morning and put on deodorant. He’s never given much thought to Keith’s nose, but of course as part Galra and an omega he must have a much higher sense. Does that mean he can smell—

“Well good! Speaking of I should check on those!”

Keith leans back and into Shiro’s side as Hunk gets up and attends the kitchen. There’s a few minutes of general chatter and then Pidge comes back.

“Finally!” Lance says, and when Allura tosses Pidge the pillow, he gets it in the face.

Pidge hooks up the video, boots the subtitles, and Hunk comes back with a plate of muffins. She hits play and then walks back to the couch where there is no room left.

“Someone scooch, the floor hurts my butt!”

“There’s cushions,” Hunk says.

Pidge waves him off. “Nuh, my movie and I want couch rights.”

No one moves for a second and then Shiro is inwardly sighing and getting up.

“Here,” Keith says, quicker. He stands and tugs Shiro over to the corner seat he was just seated in. Keith presses Shiro back down on the couch. Shiro opens his mouth to protest that no way is he letting his omega sit on the floor when—

Keith plops himself down right in Shiro’s lap.

Several synapses in Shiro’s head misfire all at once.

No one else so much as blinks, and Pidge only thanks them and takes Shiro’s now vacant spot.

But Shiro’s whole body is frozen stiff. Keith is—

Lap.

Sitting.

WHAT.

Then Keith reclines back into him and it forces Shiro to do something with his arms. He chooses, cautiously, to slide them around the man to support the position.

“Can you see?” Keith asks him quietly as the title card rolls.

His head is just against Shiro’s shoulder. “Yeah,” Shiro says. His voice is off, he swallows hard.

Omegas don’t… do this.

Or they do, but only when they’ve decided to let an alpha court them. It’s a big deal. _The biggest deal_.

Shiro’s losing his mind that absolutely no one else is losing theirs.

Does Keith mean it? Is this permission? Courting? Flirting?

Or is it just an extension of the Friendship Zone. Is it just a happenstance thing that is occurring in this particular situation? Keith clearly didn’t want either of them to sit on the floor and this is a… solution.

Shiro tries to watch the movie after that, but just existing here with Keith on his lap is a catastrophe for his focus. He’s aware of every breath, sigh, and laugh. At one point the muffins have cooled and Keith leans forward to grab them both one.

Shiro has to hold his breath and think of every distasteful Slav interaction he’s ever had so he doesn’t get hard at the way Keith’s ass shifts against him. When he does think it’s safe to breathe once more, all that he takes in is the scent of jasmine and orange.

He eats his muffin, eyes on the screen but tasting nothing. Keith hums happily enjoying his own, and Shiro’s soul almost leaves his body.

It’s one of the best and worse things to ever happen to him.

Then, halfway through, Keith starts fussing. He shifts a few times and then huffs.

“Okay?” Shiro whispers, because it’s clear he’s having some kind of issue.

“Stiff,” Keith says.

He probably means his back, but Shiro’s thoughts immediately dive into the gutter. He’s fairly sure he’s a little stiff himself from all this damnable shuffling. Fucking hell.

“You okay with the floor?” Keith asks.

Shiro and his single remaining brain cell have no idea what Keith’s talking about, but whatever Keith wants is what Shiro wants.

“Sure.”

Keith gets up then, catching Shiro’s hand. Lance and Allura are cuddled up on the other side, so there’s plenty of room where they are. Keith tugs Shiro down into the blankets, moving pillows around until Shiro can lie down, head still propped up enough to see. Keith is handsy, moving Shiro just as he wants him, and Shiro is just too shocked to have any reaction.

But then their little nest must be just right because Keith is snuggling up beside Shiro. His head still rests on Shiro’s shoulder, but now he can throw an arm over Shiro’s chest.

Something warm and fluttery bursts in Shiro’s rib cage. His hand curls over Keith’s back to hold him, amazed at his own daring, amazed that Keith lets him.

His brain is still a four-alarm fire of question marks, but Shiro tries to push it off. He has Keith in his arms, he can have a total meltdown when there’s something less important going on. As if in agreement Keith squeezes his arm around Shiro, and Shiro squeezes in return.

If they weren’t so close, Shiro would have missed the soft sigh Keith lets out following that.

As it is, the sound imprints deeply inside Shiro’s heart. He knows in that moment that he’ll never be over Keith, that this man will carry a part of his heart always. He’s not even sorry to realize that. Keith has always been Keith, and will always be Keith and he deserves to have Shiro’s undying love and so, so much more.

They watch the rest of the movie like that, cuddled together. Shiro actually sees approximately zero percent of it, but he does get plenty of opportunity to memorize Keith. He memorizes the way Keith’s chest moves when he laughs, the little skips in his breathing when he watches an action scene. He memorizes the weight of Keith resting on him, the steady thrum of energy he exudes even here doing nothing.

At least if Shiro can’t have him, he will have these sweet memories to last him all the colder days ahead.

It’s enough.

It is.

##

“Do you want to come in?” Keith asks later that night after Shiro has walked him back to his room.

There’s been no time to process anything, and that leaves Shiro in a twist. He doesn’t know _what_ all of that business was just about, and he certainly doesn’t know what this invitation is now.

But his foolish, hopeful heart gets the best of him, and to be fair he can’t really think of any downside to it.

“Sure.”

Keith still has a hand on him, and so pulls him inside. The lights are off, and Keith only dims them up a little as he moves them to the couch. They sit down next to each other, and then Keith turns to him expectantly.

Shiro just blinks at him. The situation suddenly feels fraught with traps. With the exception of the lap sitting there has still been No Green Light. To act on assumption with an omega is just not done, and Shiro would never dream of it with Keith.

Then Keith’s face falls. “Uh, Shiro? Is this all okay?”

Shiro would give anything to know in that moment what exactly _this_ is. He debates briefly the pros and cons of asking. Surely total ignorance can’t be that bad a choice?

“I’m okay,” Shiro says first, neutrally.

“Okay. Because you’d kind of just been…” Keith’s hands cast about in the air searching for the word. “Going along with it. Uh. I don’t really know, you know, if you’re into it? I mean I think you are. Or ah, physically at least. Um. But then you haven’t been initiating much? Is this just your courtship style?”

Courtship _what_?

For a moment Shiro just stares trying to understand an alternative meaning to those words.

“What?”

“Because that’s cool! I’ve been fine with the slow pace of it. I just wanted to make sure. Um. Some alphas will just do whatever any omega wants, and I don’t think you’re like that but we haven’t really talked about it, and you seemed kind of freaked out about cuddling during the movie, and I just wanted to check in,” Keith babbles.

What?

He’s not sure if he says it aloud or his face just telegraphs it, but Keith’s eyebrows raise.

“What’s that face mean?” Keith asks.

“I— Keith you’ve lost me. Courtship style?”

“You know, like some alphas are really outgoing and intense, they try to obsessively anticipate an omegas needs. Some are more… passive. Which is cool! Better than the obsessive kind. I uh, just wanted to mention because you were a little… uncomfortable before.”

And that brings Shiro right back to the very glaring thing that happened earlier that he still can’t believe actually happened. It overrides his brain trying to parse together an answer to Keith’s inquiry on his courtship style.

“You sat on my lap.”

“…yeah you’re my alpha?”

W H A T .

“I’m…”

Keith’s eyes are burning into him. “Seriously?” He says, then with something like growing horror. “...Seriously! Shiro!”

“What?”

“Are you… and I _literally_ can’t believe I’m asking this, but are you aware that we’re dating?!”

Shiro is not.

Shiro cannot even process that.

He opens his mouth and… nothing comes out.

“Shiro!”

Keith rears back and then his hands are gesturing wildly. “We’ve been going on dates!”

Shiro's mind throws up a dozen occasions of dinner and movies and hover bike racing out into the desert.

“We’ve been hanging out… like friends.”

Keith scoffs, “Oh, so you are having dinner and letting your other omega friends sit in your lap?”

“No!”

“Oh my stars,” Keith bends and puts his face in his hands. “Well that certainly explains why I’ve been carrying the load.”

“What?” Shiro should say something more intelligent, he just doesn’t know what. “Keith I… we’ve always been close, hung out, uh. But after Kerberos and the war you… you didn’t say anything.”

Shiro is pretty certain of the last point, he definitely, definitely would have remembered Keith asking Shiro to court him.

“I asked you!” Keith says, and then his brows furrow. “I asked you to take me to lunch! And to take me on dinner dates, to go out hover bike racing.”

“You did,” Shiro says, “But you didn’t say date!”

Keith’s hands come up to say something with enthusiasm, but then it leaves him. “I… didn’t. I didn’t think you needed me to? You. Uh, when you were with Adam I remember that you hated that part, that Adam always called all the shots. I thought I was gently nudging you that it was okay? Fuck. That sounds stupid when I say it out loud.”

Shiro remembers that, if vaguely. “No. Not stupid. I just didn’t get it. I didn’t think you would— I mean you’re you, and I’m a broken mate-match alpha.”

Keith scoffs. “I’m me? Have you _seen_ you? And fuck that mate-match shit, it’s stupid.” Then Keith’s shoulders deflate. “Shiro, when I kissed you before Kerberos, I meant it. Whatever way you’ve tangled this up in your head, let be clear: I meant it then and I still mean it now. I thought you were courting me. I thought we were doing this.”

“I would love to. Do it. Yes,” Shiro blurts out.

Keith smiles. “Dating.”

“Yes.”

“But as equal partners, right?”

“Right,” Shiro says, his heart is pounding.

Keith leans in then, making it very clear as his eyes drop to Shiro’s mouth. “Okay you dumb idiot. Then prove it.”

Shiro leans in the rest of the way and kisses him.

The hot energy between them explodes through the kiss. Shiro pours himself into it, taking Keith’s mouth, finally getting his hands on the man properly. It’s a soft kiss that opens into more, and Shiro luxuriates in it, letting the jasmine scent overwhelm him.

It’s just as he’s beginning to push, to recline Keith into the couch and climb on top of him that the hands come up to his chest.

He pulls back immediately.

“Keith?”

Keith blinks his eyes open, and he looks pink cheeked and dazed. He smiles. “Just a lot after going slow for so long.”

Shiro feels his own face heat. “Ah, sorry?”

Keith kisses his cheek. “Not a complaint. I just think we should stop there.”

Shiro opens his mouth and then closes it. The uncertainty rushes back, and selfishly he doesn’t want to stop. His greatest dream is right before him, and Shiro’s already so hard in his jeans. He wants.

He would never normally say anything against an omega wanting to stop, but then he sees the look in Keith's eyes. It looks like a test. 

“Stop here?” Shiro asks, gently. At the slightest hint that this isn’t what Keith wants, Shiro is ready to pull back.

But Keith’s smile widens, and then he’s moving forward and onto Shiro’s lap. His hands curl around Shiro’s neck. “Hmm yes,” Keith leans in to nudge his nose against Shiro’s throat, almost whispering the words. “It's just occurred to me that before _that_ , I should be properly courted.”

Those obscene hips shift against Shiro, and Shiro’s hands clench tight on them to… he’s not sure what. “Courted?”

“Mmm, properly. I’ve been suffering through a bit alone, so maybe some turnabout can bring us back to more even grounds, hm?” Keith lays a kiss on his throat.

Something darker is crawling out from Shiro’s belly, drawn out by Keith’s teasing. Shiro decides to play a little right back. “But baby,” he says as he leans in to scent Keith’s throat for the first time, “haven’t you already been so patient? We don’t have to wait.”

Keith makes a low, amused sound, and Shiro feels like he’s finally arrived on the right track. Keith grinds against his lap again and Shiro had to bite his lip at the pleasure of it.

“Patience yields focus,” Keith teases. “So I want you to be patience, and focus.”

The _on me_ part isn’t said, but when he pulls back Shiro can see his eyes are luminescent.

Keith slides off Shiro’s lap then, looking not quite ruffled enough for how Shiro feels.

“Goodnight, Shiro,” Keith says. He turns and, amazingly, walks away toward his bedroom. “Sweet dreams.”

The door clicks closed leaving Shiro sitting there on the couch, head spinning. He really just--

Shiro is in equal parts turned on and frustrated and impressed. He feels played, but in the best kind of way.

He gets up and lets himself out, adjusting his cock so as to not be painful. On the walk back to his own apartment he tries to get his brain around everything that just happened.

One thing becomes pressingly clear: courting Keith.

Properly.

He can’t fucking wait.

##

What comes next no respectable mate-match would consider courting. It’s true Shiro does all the steps: attendance, provision, and protection, but they’re…

 _Well_.

More like foreplay if he’s being honest with himself.

Shiro starts that next day bringing Keith breakfast and scenting him, but ends up with a lapful of Keith who is looking at him with a faux innocent expression and asking for Shiro to feed him. Shiro retaliates by doing so with his fingers, and the ensuing teasing of Keith sucking at his fingers and Shiro then sliding those fingers into the back of Keith’s mouth means that both of them then have to break off and take care of their respective hard-ons.

It doesn’t get better from there.

Or it does, but in the way that has Shiro taking time out of his work to get off so he doesn’t pop a knot in a public place. He imagines by the way that Keith is panting sometimes when they break apart that the omega is doing the same.

Walks to and from meetings become opportunities to press each other up against a wall in an empty classroom and make out. Kissing is still on the table mostly, and so they do it shamelessly. Meals become trials where Keith eats food with an obscenity that should never, ever be put on public display, and Shiro more often than not has to whisk the man away before anyone else can see.

When he chides Keith for it, Shiro gets to discover just how Keith… folds. His eyes bloom dark, head tilting to offer his throat, and the smell of jasmine just chokes the air. It becomes so quickly clear that Keith gets off on being put into place, and Shiro can’t believe this whole time he’s been missing it.

Of course Keith pushes to get push back. Shiro can see it all so clearly now, how Keith had kept nudging, even physically pulling, and Shiro had just been as docile as any Proper Alpha.

Proper Alpha is not what either of them really wants. Shiro knows better now.

In that next week they glance off each other like meteors. There’s heat and sparks, but no explosion, at least not yet. It’s a game, like sparring, and Shiro doesn’t want to lose even if the prize is sweet. He wants to prove to Keith that he can keep up, that he can meet this challenge Keith has presented.

And above all Keith really does deserve this extra period of courting, even if it’s in their own unique way. Shiro would do anything for him, and now that the omega is his, he’s dedicated to only the best.

Even if the amount of times he’s getting off in a day is ridiculous. Even if no matter how he strokes himself he can’t quite scratch that itch.

Keith is worth it.

So they tease, and play. Sparring becomes a practice of maximum self-control. Keith comes to them in increasingly lewd outfits, and Shiro just leans in on the obscenity of alpha clothing. Now when Keith looks at him, eyeing his half-hard cock in his leggings Shiro just widens his legs in offering.

It’s one alpha thing he can finally fulfill, and it feels good to let himself indulge. He likes to watch how Keith almost can’t tear his eyes away, how he licks his lips like he wants a taste.

At the end of the first week when they finish a spar, Shiro can’t help himself.

“Hungry?”

Keith’s eyes are slow to move off his bulge. They’re sprawled on the mat and breathing hard from the work out and the frustration of it.

Then Keith is crawling closer and on top of Shiro. “Famished.” He sits himself right on Shiro’s cock and leans down to Shiro’s lips. “Salivating even.”

Shiro’s hands are suddenly on his hips, fingers curling under the band of Keith’s leggings. The innuendo did not just glance him this time. The idea that Keith could be… wet.

Fuck.

 _Fuck_.

He wants to see.

“We’ve been patient,” Shiro blurts out. In another time his eagerness would make him cringe, but he likes how Keith grins sharp in response.

Keith grinds slow and filthy on him. “Have we?”

And suddenly Shiro is past the line of his self-control. He didn’t know he was nearing it, but the scent and feel and promise of Keith is too much then. He wants him, wants him more than he’s ever wanted anything.

Smoother than he feels, Shiro flips them. His fingers catch and drag the thin fabric of Keith’s leggings down.

Keith laughs and catches his hands, stopping him. “Wait.”

Shiro freezes with a beleaguered groan into Keith’s neck. His hips are still pushing against Keith, needy in a way he’s never been before. “Keith please. I give up. Please.”

A gentling hand scrapes up the back of his nape. “I know,” Keith croons. “And I agree, just not here, I don’t want interruptions.”

Shiro pulls back to see Keith flushed and happy, eyes full of promise.

“What?”

“Bed,” Keith says. “Take me to bed, alpha.”

In a flash Shiro is up, tugging Keith with him. They fix Keith’s leggings clumsily, and then Shiro is practically dragging them out of the gym and down the halls. It’s late and they don’t meet anyone in the halls, which is great because Shiro must look like a love-struck fool.

Not that even a crowded hall would stop him at this point. His head is full of _Keith, Keith, Keith,_ and he doesn’t care about anything or anyone else.

Keith’s laughing by the time Shiro throws him down on the bed.

“Eager?”

Shiro growls and covers his body, kissing the smile on his lips. Immediately Keith curves into him, tugging him in with hands and thighs. They slot perfectly, and it gets a rumbling something in Shiro’s chest. He licks into Keith’s mouth tasting the jasmine, wanting to just roll himself in it.

They kiss and grind, and it’s desperate and not enough. The clothes between them are—

They have to go.

“Sh—“ Keith says when he pulls back, but then Shiro is tugging off Keith’s shirt and stripping the leggings. “You too,” Keith reminds him when Shiro's brain gets stuck on all that beautiful skin on display.

He tugs off his sweaty workout clothing without ceremony, watching as Keith slides off his underwear.

Keith smells of sweat and jasmine. It’s a strange balance of smells, and when Shiro comes back to the bed he can’t help but put his face to Keith’s belly.

It’s damp with sweat, and Shiro’s hive brain has him licking at the skin.

Keith makes a sound, and a hand clenches in his hair. Shiro looks up and sees Keith’s expression, and it’s blown open. Stunning.

“I want to taste you,” Shiro says. Keith teased the idea in the gym, and since it’s been festering. Shiro wants to know if that’s the jasmine scent that Keith always has. His whole body is nearly vibrating with the possibility.

“O-okay.”

Shiro doesn’t wait. Keith’s legs widen for him, and Shiro shifts down. Keith’s cock is hard against his belly, and Shiro gives it a wanting look before continuing on. One thing at a time.

And first—

Keith mumbles something like a curse or just a bitten sound as Shiro settles between his legs. Before him Keith is splayed, and he’s perfect. Shiro draws one thigh over his shoulder and pulls Keith closer, eyes stuck on his hole. It’s rosy and wet, and the flood of scent makes his mouth water.

But he doesn’t have to deny himself anymore. Shiro bends and puts his mouth to Keith’s entrance.

The taste of his slick explodes across Shiro’s tongue. It’s intoxicating at once, and Shiro curls his hands around Keith’s thighs and holds him close, diving back in. He laps and sucks, making a mess as he works his tongue in.

Above Keith cries out, hands fisting in his hair as his thighs jerk and squeeze. Shiro rumbles back a pleased sound and continues to eat him out. He knew Keith was perfect, but being here now is incomparable to any dream or fantasy. He tastes delicious to Shiro’s alpha, and while he knows knotting is on the table now, it might be hard to pull himself away. He just tastes so fucking _good_.

Keith pants and pulls and squirms, but Shiro keeps at it. He can feel the waves of the omegas body as it tightens, as the slick pours of out him in impending orgasm. It’s so fast how it’s happening, but Shiro only feels pride for it. He’s making his omega feel good.

It’s all that he wants.

But then one of Shiro’s hands creeps up around his thigh just as Keith is huffing and clenching on his tongue. He times it carefully, plunging back inside Keith’s hole just as he strokes up the underside of Keith’s cock with two fingers.

The omega seizes up instantly. He spasms, moaning as he comes on Shiro’s tongue. It’s a gush of slick that covers Shiro’s face, and he licks and swallows and thumbs just beneath Keith’s cockhead, milking out every pleasurable pulse. It goes on, and Shiro just adores him.

Then his omega is panting hard as he settles. His limbs go boneless. Shiro pulls back to avoid oversensitiveness and get a look at him.

Keith is a fucking vision. He’s been shifting against the pillows, and his hair is a tousled mess that matches the hot flush across his cheeks. His cock is still hard, leaking against his belly. Shiro’s certain a few strokes would have him coming from his cock, but the alpha in him wants that when he’s buried knot-deep inside him.

When Keith blinks his eyes open, they’re glazed. Shiro smiles at him.

Keith tugs at his hair, and Shiro is all too happy to climb back up him.

“You’re a mess,” Keith says.

That’s funny coming from Keith, he looks like half his personality was wiped out by the orgasm. Still Shiro takes a hand and wipes the slick off his face. It doesn’t at all get rid of the scent though, thankfully.

Then Keith looks down, and Shiro knows at once he’s looking at Shiro’s cock. It’s heavy and full, and Shiro leans back a little so Keith could see properly. His knot isn’t inflated yet, but Shiro can feel how ready his body is to make that happen.

He wants this more than he ever did with Adam. Adam was something that happened to him instead of something he chose, he knows that now. He remembers mating with Adam and being so sure that he had finally achieved some milestone. Now Shiro doesn’t even recognize that former self. That Shiro is so far from who he is now, so alien to him.

And it certainly didn’t feel like this. Here there is a desperate wanting just under his skin, and it’s so much more than just the physical mating. He wants Keith in every way it is possible to have a person. He wants a mate-match and a mate bite and a forever mate.

He wants to be worthy, to be a good alpha, to be an alpha that this omega will never toss aside.

A hand entangles with his, drawing Shiro out of his thoughts and to Keith’s expression. Keith pulls him back down, pressing their foreheads together.

“You’re very impressive,” Keith says. “But you know it’s not just that. I don’t want you just because you’re an alpha, just because you’re an impressive alpha.” A soothing hand pets over Shiro’s cheek and down his neck. “You’re it for me. You always have been. It’s you. It's here.” He presses a hand over Shiro’s heart briefly, and then moves up to his temple. “And here.”

Shiro has to close his eyes then at the choke of emotion. “Same,” he says. “Same. Keith I— I love you. Have loved you. Will always love you. You’re—“ The words run out then and Keith’s hand curls across the back of his neck.

“I know,” Keith says. “I know. I love you too.” He shifts then, and Shiro can see his throat, the scent glands and bare space there. “I want the bite if you do. I know omegas wait, but I don’t need to. I’ve known for a long time.”

Shiro can’t help but kiss him then. He kisses and kisses and kisses Keith, trying to press his love into Keith in any way that he can. The heat sparks back up now, somehow stronger than before. A certainty has solidified in Shiro’s chest, and it feels just as steady as Keith himself is.

Keith loves him.

_Loves him._

“I love you,” Shiro says when they part to breathe.

“Then take me, mark me,” Keith says, eyes never breaking from his.

_Mark me._

Fuck.

It’s the work of only a few seconds to get positioned. Proper mating is done from behind, but by silent agreement both of them can’t bear not to be looking at each other. Instead Shiro gets a pillow under Keith’s ass, and Keith winds his legs around Shiro’s waist.

Shiro’s cock is still hard and ready, and when he puts it to Keith’s wet hole the tension is nearly unbearable. He pushes in.

Keith groans as Shiro fills him. He’s a lot to take for any omega, let alone one as slender as Keith. Even as wet as Keith is, there’s a drag, a pressure. It feels fucking sublime, but Shiro tries not to lose his head completely. When he bottoms out he stops, keeping his upper body off Keith’s so he can see his expression.

Keith’s eyes are closed, his breathing short. He opens them when he notices Shiro’s stopped.

“Don’t stop!” He hisses.

Shiro laughs at the very typical Keith expression and kisses his cheek. Then he does as his omega commends and moves.

The fuck at first is almost too tight. Keith is… he can’t think the idea virginal, because certainly some omegas do just fuck for fun instead of for mating. But somehow he doesn’t think Keith has. The alpha in him _cannot_ , cannot contemplate that now. Not if he’s going to last.

But Keith’s claw keep him close and his sounds begin to move from strained to pleasurable. Shiro holds his thighs up and at the perfect angle and begins to pound into him. The scent douses everything, and Shiro picks up the pace, watching his omega curse and moan and take his cock so beautifully.

He keeps his throat on display and it’s eye-catching. It drives him on to fill Keith, to begin to press in more as the knot begins to fill.

“I’m—“ is all Keith gets and then his hole is clutching around Shiro’s cock, coming again. It feels _fucking amazing_ around Shiro’s cock, so he doesn’t stop. He fucks deep, knot just starting to breach. His alpha rises savagely to the surface, a growl of demand that he take the omega, knot him, _mark him_.

He can. He will.

He folds down into Keith, rutting hard. The orgasm and slick has smoothed the thrusts, and the filthy sound of it only twists him up. His omega came on his cock, and is going to come on his knot if Shiro has anything to say about it. He growls mouthing at Keith’s neck, sucking at the spot where his bite will go.

Keith whines and clutches at him. “Alpha! Need— please!”

He knows, he knows what his omega needs. His knot is heavy and the next thrust in he presses hard and it almost goes in. Keith makes a trilling, gorgeous sound and then Shiro’s next thrust is harder.

The knot pushes in.

Claws rake down Shiro’s back, and it only adds to the fire, shoves him right to the edge of his control. He fucks in deep, in the space he can with his knot stuck, chasing his orgasm. His teeth are sharp, hungry. Between them Shiro reaches a hand and strokes Keith’s cock clumsily.

And then Keith is coming again, moaning hot as his body arches. The pressure on Shiro’s knot is like nothing else and he lowers his mouth to Keith’s neck and bites.

His senses all clash together at once, the pleasure a white-black swirl that has him coming. He teeth piece and his mouth fills with copper and jasmine. Keith mewls, coming and coming and taking Shiro’s knot beauttifully, taking his come.

Shiro bites again and again as he spends himself, rutting deep inside Keith’s heat. There is no language or thought. It’s just the sensation, wave after wave of it sizzling through him as he empties himself. There's only Keith, his omega, his mate.

His love.

Awareness skips him over then. Shiro floats in the bliss, spent and happy in a primal way that nothing has ever been. He pulls his teeth back from flesh and begin to lick at the wound. There is nothing else but the heat clutching his knot, the taste of his mate. There’s a throb around his knot that sends a little jolt through him. He licks again at the bite and his mate tightens again.

Shiro rumbles in approval.

His mate makes a matching sound back. A hand cards through his hair.

“With me Shiro?”

It takes a moment to realize that’s his name. Shiro blinks his eyes open. There’s light. The bed.

Blood.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

He pushes his torso up with a mammoth amount of effort. Keith is smiling at him sweetly.

“Hey there.”

Shiro blinks at him.

“Yeah,” Keith says fondly. “Same.”

It takes a little bit longer for the knot-dumbness to fade. Shiro blushes hot when he realizes what it is. Keith only kisses his lips.

“That was a lot all at once.”

“…okay?” Shiro asks. His voice is strained.

“Yes. Perfect. I think we were due after what we put each other through with courtship.”

With the hazy pleasure fading Shiro can certainly feel his body’s aches. His knot is just beginning to go down, but the rest of him… ow.

Not that Keith looks better. His throat is… _something_.

“Sorry,” Shiro says looking upon it. The alpha in him doesn’t really feel sorry, but maybe such an aggressive bite is not a good look.

Keith snorts. “Do you actually feel sorry?” There’s a pause where Shiro doesn’t have a tactful answer. “Exactly. Hm. How about from now on you give up this Proper Alpha shit and I’ll give up the Proper Omega shit and we just meet in the middle?”

Shiro can't help but beam. His mate is perfect. “Equal partners,” Shiro says.

That gets him Keith’s most blazing smile. Shiro leans down and kisses him.

“Equal partners,” Keith says.

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate title: Shiro and his single remaining brain cell.
> 
> Those of you from twitter will know this is from a tweet that blew up, and was requested very ardently for me to write. I really enjoyed writing a truly ridiculous amount of pining. I hope you liked this slightly different take on omegaverse!
> 
> I'm @an_aphorism on twitter where I make horny head canons about fictional characters.


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